


Turning the tables on Tissaia

by tissaias_piglet



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: And the shit summary, Can Tissaia rail me now pls, F/F, Just read it if you like sexy Witcher ladies having sex basically, Literally I only ever write smut, My kink is being called piglet by Tissaia de Vries, PWP, There is a bit of story but yeah not really, Tissaia and Yen bone, Using telepathy to say sexy things and distract each other, Yen hates Tissaia but also wants her, Yennefer/Triss (mentioned), sorry for the shit title, sub tissaia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23362717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tissaias_piglet/pseuds/tissaias_piglet
Summary: Seeing Tissaia there at the table – fighting, shouting, holding her own against men who, Yennefer knew, still silently burned with rage at the idea of any woman being allowed to leave the bedchamber, let alone being in a position where she could command armies and cause, or end, battles – something snapped inside Yennefer. She had to have her.One never stops being owned by Tissaia de Vries, but Yennefer has decided that for once she wants to own Tissaia instead, at least for a night.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 14
Kudos: 146





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, more non-canonical smut!
> 
> For my beautiful girlfriend as always <3

Yennefer had hoped that when next she saw Tissaia, the woman's hold over her would have lessened. But she also knew that the rectoress did not keep her power and position by allowing her influence to fade over time. Once one was owned by Tissaia de Vries, there was no escape. It surprised Yennefer only a little to know that she didn't mind too much.

It had been – how long? Months, years, decades? She remembered Tissaia saying please to her. That had been the last time they saw one another. And her own comment in return, asking whether the rectoress had ever used that word before. In spite of everything, it had sparked Yennefer's imagination, given her so many things to think about when she was alone.

She had tried – oh, so hard – to feel nothing but hatred for Tissaia. For the woman who had bought her for next to nothing from her own father. Who had only called her piglet for months, who had told her no one would care if she died. And she had hated her, hated her with a passion matched only by her hatred for herself.

But there had been something more there. A need to be liked, to be cared for, to be told she wasn't useless, that her birth hadn't been a mistake. Yennefer needed to know that someone thought she was desirable, beautiful. In her village, even the slowest, heftiest, most cow-like girls, the boys who looked like the arse-end of a dog, had found someone to fuck them. But not her. Never her.

Tissaia was the most mesmerising person – man or woman – she had ever seen. Needing the rectoress to think she was desirable had became almost a singular obsession for Yennefer in the years before her transformation. She knew Tissaia would never tell her she was beautiful; she would speak as she always did, in the language of power, and seduction, and maintaining control. Yennefer would gladly have taken any kind of attention. But she remained untouched, wanting, craving.

Even after her transformation, the longed-for touch did not come, although she saw Tissaia looking approvingly at her many times. Always looking at her. She could feel the strength of the other woman's lust for her, although she didn't understand how. The piglet had grown up to become a piece of meat. The irony burned. But even then, she couldn't stop her desire for the rectoress. Somewhere, it had stopped just being a need to be wanted, and become a need to possess her, to control her, to dominate her.

Seeing Tissaia there at the table – fighting, shouting, holding her own against men who, Yennefer knew, still silently burned with rage at the idea of any woman being allowed to leave the bedchamber, let alone being in a position where she could command armies and cause, or end, battles – something snapped inside Yennefer. She had to have her. It had gone on for too long; the lingering looks, the smirks, the deliberate biting of her lower lip when Yennefer was watching, the nights Yennefer had had to close her eyes tightly and imagine that the fingers touching her weren't her own…

Yen could feel that her underclothes were damp. She tried to suppress a shudder, willing herself to focus on what Tissaia was saying. Years of training had taught her to agree with everything the rectoress said, but what if she was only looking out for her own interests? For Aretuza? What about the kingdoms which would fall, the citizens who would be tortured? What about-

_Have I ever steered you wrong before, Yennefer?_

For a second, Yennefer thought her heart might stop beating. How-? She'd heard that the rectoresses could communicate with each other in ways unheard, sharing information about girls who had misbehaved in their lessons, or were caught out of bed in the night without a good reason, but no one had ever confirmed the rumour. And surely that ability was shared only by the highest ranking women, not someone like her. Even the most talented mage was still nowhere near worthy of such power.

_You are wrong, Yennefer. You are worthy. And you are mine. I can share my power with anyone I choose._

Yennefer didn't have the words to describe what it did to her to hear Tissaia saying 'you are mine' like that. It felt as though the words had been whispered into her ear, accompanied with the lightest brush of warm lips. An insistent aching was beginning between her legs, and her underclothes were uncomfortably damp.

_Good. Just how I want you._

She felt her cheeks flush hotly. How had Tissaia heard her thinking about her underclothes? The ache became more desperate as she wondered how the thought of her damp underclothes might be affecting the other woman. By all the gods, she needed some relief.

Triss was stood close enough to her that Yennefer could grab her hand, press it between her legs, move against it. It would be only one of many times they'd helped each other out, foreheads pressed together, fingers slick and moving frantically, in forests, and castles, and dirty rooms above taverns. The temptation was almost too much.

Yennefer heard Tissaia moaning aloud at the images her memories had conjured, but the room was too full of shouts for anyone else to notice. Only Yennefer, who had wanted to hear that very sound for so long, managed to pick it out.

_Mine._

Tissaia's voice was a growl. Low. Possessive. Yennefer felt her knees go weak, and clutched at the table. Too slowly for anyone to notice, she moved closer, closer, until she was pressing herself against where her hands held the edge of the table. The thick folds of her dress disguised the fact that the knuckle of her thumb was nestled comfortably between her thighs, where she ached the most. It was nowhere near enough, but it would do for a few minutes.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, aware of what it would cost her if she did it wrong, Yennefer let herself moan for only Tissaia to hear. She saw the rectoress start a little and pressed her lips together, stifling a smirk. She must have moaned louder than she intended to.

 _You fucking tease._ Tissaia sounded breathless, ruined. _When we're finished here, I'm going to take you so hard and for so long that you won't be able to walk in the morning._

Somehow she had always known that Tissaia would say things like that, would make every time she'd been with a man seem insignificant in comparison to her raw desire, lust, desperation. But Yennefer had no intention of letting the other woman be in control, not today. She had waited for too long.

 _Yes mistress_ , she answered meekly, keeping her other thoughts – in which she finally got the chance to exert her control over Tissaia – to herself. There was no need for the rectoress to know what she had in mind just yet.

Did it matter what was being said in the room? Did it matter if tomorrow she went into battle and didn't return? All Yennefer could think about was spreading apart those soft, pale thighs, and putting her mouth where she had longed to be for so long.


	2. Chapter 2

Yennefer knew Tissaia would come to her room that evening. Trying to distract herself had been almost impossible, and in the end she had summoned ropes to tie her wrists to the bedposts. Even then, as she lay on the bed, she couldn't stop herself moving her hips as she imagined grinding herself on Tissaia's harsh, lovely mouth.

Lying bound on the bed, her lip bitten to bloodiness, a fresh set of underclothes already damp through, it was hard to know how much time had passed since they were together in the great hall. Yennefer knew that Tissaia was punishing her, but it didn't stop a tiny bud of fear beginning to bloom inside her. What if she'd been wrong? No. She wouldn't, couldn't, let her fears ruin things now.

With a word, the ropes dissolved into nothingness, like mist burned away by the sun's warmth. Shakily, Yennefer climbed from her bed, straightening her hair. Examining her reflection in the mirror, she reached up to wipe away a smear of blood from her mouth, then changed her mind. Tissaia de Vries was probably the sort of person who would find something like that incredibly erotic.

She opened the door noiselessly, glancing up and down the hallway outside. It was quiet, as though everyone had retired to their own chambers. She slipped out, making sure the door closed with only the quietest sound. Before she'd even had time to decide whether to walk left or right, rough hands were on her shoulders, pushing her back against the wall. Tissaia crushed their lips together, moaning freely as Yennefer met her kiss and matched it, deepening it, hands groping at her indelicately.

Yennefer bit Tissaia's lip as they broke apart for air, pleased to see blood welling up immediately. It made her ache. In response, Tissaia caught Yennefer's chin between her thumb and forefinger, holding her in place as she leaned forward and slowly licked away the smear of blood from the corner of her mouth. It was almost unbearably sexual, and only the knowledge of where they were managed to stop Yennefer from whimpering loudly.

“Inside,” Tissaia growled, pushing Yennefer when she didn't move fast enough. It was exactly where Yennefer wanted her to be. She entered the room first, Tissaia stopping and turning around to whisper something – whether it was an enchantment to lock the door, or to stifle the sounds of their pleasure to anyone walking by, Yennefer didn't care. The moment she turned back, Yennefer flew at her, pinning the other woman to the door, ravaging her mouth with kisses.

They moved against each other desperately, years of pent up desire and frustration spilling forth, Yennefer managing to push her thigh between Tissaia's, the other woman immediately trying to grind down on her, whimpering with such frustration that she sounded close to crying when their skirts prevented her getting the contact she needed.

Good. The fear inside Yennefer died immediately when she saw how desperate Tissaia was for her. No one could pretend such need. She grabbed handfuls of the other woman's skirts, pulling them up so she could reach down to where she so desperately wanted to touch. A word, and Tissaia's underclothes were gone. Yennefer could smell her arousal. Oh, by the gods, how was she going to keep control long enough to get what she wanted?

“Hold those,” she commanded, pushing the bunched-up skirts into Tissaia's hands. She moved closer, resting one hand on the door behind Tissaia's shoulder, close enough for their breasts to press together, their breath to be shared, and let the other hand move slowly down between the other woman's legs. The hair she found there was wet, almost dripping, and she bit her lip, wondering what Tissaia's juices tasted like. She wanted to put her mouth there. But Yennefer knew if she did that, she wouldn't be able to stop, and her plan to tease the other woman would be lost.

So slowly, so teasingly, she ran the tip of her finger through the wetness she found, grazing heated flesh. Pushing her way between, Yennefer found Tissaia's clit, swollen and waiting for her, and stroked it gently. The rectoress gasped sharply through gritted teeth, her knuckles white as she gripped her skirts. Yennefer stroked her again, wondering how she would be able to stop herself. But her plan depended on it. She rubbed firmly, and felt Tissaia's legs tremble. Fuck, the woman was more glorious than she could ever have imagined.

“Oh, Yenna!” Tissaia sobbed, freeing one hand so she could grip Yennefer's shoulder. She closed her eyes, trembling, her hips jerking forward against Yennefer's touch.

With more reluctance than she could ever have imagined, Yennefer pulled her hand away. Tissaia's mouth dropped open, her eyes opening, wide and wet. She looked ruined, desperate beyond anything words could describe. Yennefer could barely stop herself from giving in and letting the rectoress have what she wanted.

“Fuck me,” Tissaia demanded, trying for control of the situation. Her voice broke. “Fuck me now, Yennefer.”

By the gods, how she wanted to. Yennefer grabbed Tissaia's wrists, pinning her arms above her head. “Beg me,” she commanded. “Beg me and I'll do it. I'll give you pleasure like you couldn't even imagine.”

Tissaia tipped back her head, whimpering loudly at the ceiling, frustrated, desperate, furious at herself for considering Yennefer's demand. “Please,” she whispered, “Yenna, please?”

Hearing her name spoken in such a deliciously needy way broke Yennefer's resolve. She dropped to her knees, burying her face in Tissaia, moaning as she finally tasted the other woman. She licked desperately, gasping and whining to herself, so worked up that she needed to be touched almost as badly as Tissaia did. “Fuck..” she breathed, as Tissaia roughly grabbed a handful of her hair, trying to hold her in place.

Tissaia's legs were trembling, and Yennefer could tell she was close. She pulled back, licking her lips to chase the taste of the other woman. The rectoress opened her eyes, looking down at Yennefer with desperation written all over her face. “Please,” she begged, “please, please, please? Give it to me?”

Yennefer smirked, pretending to consider the other woman's plea. “You haven't earned it yet,” she murmured, biting into the soft flesh of Tissaia's thigh. She paused, giving the bite a chance to sting, then soothed it with her tongue. Tissaia was almost beside herself, trembling, her skin shimmering with sweat in the low, flickering candle light. The idea that she hadn't been touched in some time was almost enough to send Yennefer over the edge. She could feel her resolve fading fast.

She pressed both hands flush against Tissaia's hip bones, pinning her against the door. It made her ache to think that she was on her knees and yet still in complete control of the situation. “Who's the piglet now?” she smirked, her voice a low purr, “hmm?”

Tissaia groaned in frustration and need. She tried to move closer to Yennefer's mouth but was denied instantly. Nails dug into her flesh and she whimpered.

“I can deny you all night, Tissaia,” Yennefer smirked. “Or you could just answer me. Who's the piglet now?” She leaned in, using the lightest, most teasing licks to drive Tissaia wild, and wondered whether she would ever want to do anything except touch the other woman for the rest of time.

The response, when it came, was so quiet that she almost missed it. “I am,” Tissaia whispered, her voice ragged, “I'm the piglet.” Yennefer wanted to sob in gratitude, because she was almost at the point of giving in, being so close to the taste and the scent of Tissaia and not being able to take what was hers.

“Fuck,” Yennefer groaned, getting to her feet as quickly as she could, grabbing Tissaia's hand and dragging her to the bed, pushing her down. “Dress?” she asked tersely, too desperate to form real sentences, but still needing the rectoress to consent. Getting a nod in response, Yennefer uttered a quick word and the dress was gone. “The rest?” she asked again, and again received a nod. A moment later, Tissaia was lying naked on the bed, and Yennefer felt like all her dreams had come true.

Her own clothes were removed as effortlessly as Tissaia's had been, and she climbed onto the bed, spreading the other woman's legs. It was easier, lying down, to see how wet and ready she was, but Yennefer barely had time to notice. All she could think of was having her mouth on Tissaia.

“Yenna, fuck!” Tissaia sobbed, “oh, oh!” Her words broke into a high whine as Yennefer licked her furiously, bringing her pleasure like she'd never experienced, just as she had promised. “Oh, by the gods,” she gasped, “I'm-”

Yennefer sucked her clit hard, pushing two fingers inside her without warning. Tissaia thrust onto them instantly, her eyes tightly closed, perfect hair ruined and sticking to her forehead. Both women could tell how close she was.

“ _Mine_ ,” Yennefer growled, and Tissaia, knowing she wouldn't be given what she needed if she didn't play Yennefer's game, instantly gasped, “all yours, I'm all yours.”

She curled her fingers inside Tissaia, looking for the place which would make her fall apart, knowing she'd found it when the rectoress let out a short scream. She rubbed at it roughly with two fingers, still licking frantically, and felt Tissaia fall apart beneath her, coming with Yennefer's name on her lips, her body shaking and sweat-soaked.

Her immediate instinct was to hold Tissaia close as she gasped for breath, cradling her and protecting her in her vulnerability, but Yennefer wasn't sure whether the rectoress would allow that. Instead, she nervously stroked Tissaia's stomach with her thumb, giving the other woman a feeling to cling on to as she recovered.

_Thank you._

It made sense that Tissaia would be too proud to say it out loud, but too caring to let Yennefer think she hadn't noticed her tenderness. _You are welcome. Was I…?_ Yennefer tried desperately not to berate herself for her neediness, telling herself it was only because she wanted to make sure she'd done a good job of pleasing the rectoress.

Tissaia leaned over, kissing Yennefer weakly, exhausted. “You were perfect, Yenna. May I touch you?” She ran her fingers up Yennefer's thigh, a gesture which could have been loving or seductive, depending on how Yennefer chose to take it.

“Not...not now?” Yennefer asked in a shy whisper, all traces of her dominance gone. “I want you to, I do, but right now I just want...” It seemed she didn't have to voice what she really wanted, which was good, because she wasn't sure she'd be able to say the words out loud. Tissaia moved closer to her, slowly, waiting for permission, and Yennefer moved in too, close enough that she could slip her hand into Tissaia's and feel the heat of her body as she lay beside her, but not close enough to hold her. Not yet. But hopefully soon.


End file.
